Keeping it Real for Over 30 Years

We were talking several months ago and realized we’ve been friends for over 30 years.

I’m talking about my best friend Randy. She was there when my daughter was born — heck, Randy is responsible for getting me to the hospital just in time to bring my baby girl into the world. My husband at the time was in the Marine Corp stationed at Camp LeJeune, North Carolina.

Friendship is not something to take lightly. I worked with a colleague who was single, had no family in town and appeared not to have any close friends. Given how family-oriented I am, I couldn’t imagine living so alone.

Randy and I grew apart physically but never spiritually. We’re both from small towns in North Central Ohio and were raised in two-parent homes with two younger siblings. How we both came to be friends was purely by fate.

I was making my way through college trying to complete my degree in business management. One day I must’ve had something written on my forehead that said, “Pick me! Pick me!” That’s when one of my marketing instructors approached me as I was walking across campus, minding my own business and asked if I wanted to take a stab at radio. I was young n dumb at the time and said, “Sure, why not?”

My instructor proceeded to tell me about a group of general managers in the area, all of whom owned radio stations. They had formed the North Central Ohio Broadcasters Association and were offering internships to minority students. All I had to do was complete the application and show up at a later date for the interview. I did and out of several other candidates, I was selected to participate in the program.

The internship involved working in all phases of radio at six different stations in the region for six weeks at a time. At the end of the internship, if one of the member stations had an opening, I would be considered as a strong candidate to fill the position.

One of the general managers in the NCOBA was Randy’s father. He ran an AM/FM combo in the community about 10 miles from where I lived. Randy, on the other hand, was the news director for another AM/FM combo station another 30 miles from where I lived. It was a country/western station and the general manager was part of the NCOBA as well.

When it came time to do the six-week rotation at the country/western station, I admit to having had ambivalent feelings. I did not like country/western music. But I was excited about this radio thing because it was fun!

I arrived at the station on my first day 15 minutes before I was to start. Randy admitted several years later that she was surprised I showed up so early. Basically, she assumed because I was black that I would be on what we in the black community call, “CP time.” What she didn’t know is that my father despised “CP time” and raised us to always be on time for appointments. The fact that I arrived 15 minutes early was because I had no clue where I was going and so I left the house early enough to give myself time to get lost, if that makes any sense.

About three weeks into the internship, Randy sends me on a news assignment. I was to find a wagon train that was weaving it’s way through the backroads of North Central Ohio. I was to get an interview with the organizers and bring it back to the station to go on the air at noon. It was 8:00 a.m.

I contacted the local sheriff’s department to find out if they had any clue as to where this wagon train might be located. The dispatcher gave me an approximate location and so I set off in search of horses and covered wagons — yep, just like the one’s I had seen on Gunsmoke.

When I finally found the wagon train, I was so excited I could’ve peed my pants! Mostly because this was my first assignment and I managed to get the most important part of it done, i.e., find the subject matter of the interview. I got out of the car and started to walk across a huge field to the humans who were mingling among the covered wagons and horses. As I was walking something said,”Cat, look down.” I did and oh boy! Horse manure for days! I mean everywhere! That stuffed was piled up like landmines!

After navigating my way through, I get to the woman who I’m told is the media contact. I extend my hand and introduce myself. Her hand comes forward, I look down and oh boy, again! Her hands looked like she had been playing in the stuff I had just tried to avoid! Yikes!

We talked for about 15 minutes and I learned that the wagon train was part of a program for juvenile delinquent kids. The young men and women were “sentenced” to take part in this wilderness excursion instead of spending time in a detention center. It was to help them grow up and appreciate the city life they had all been snatched from for this program.

When we finished I navigated back to the car then raced back to the radio station, busted into Randy’s office and proclaimed at the top of my lungs, “I found it!” She had a surprised look on her face like she didn’t think I would find it. At the time I didn’t read too much into it.

However, it was years later when we were being honest with each other that Randy told me she had sent me on that wild goose chase to “break me.” Yeah, she thought I was way too confident in my abilities and she wanted to bring me down a peg. But when I walked in with a 15 minute inteview, she realized I just wasn’t the one to be broken.

What she also didn’t know is I wasn’t all that confident in myself. I was excited about this new opportunity that I had been given and so maybe my excitement came off as cockiness.

Of course, we laugh about it today. But one of the things I know for sure, Randy and I don’t have to play those games with each other anymore. We are keeping it real because we both know life is too short for nonsense.

I have a plaque that she gave me 25 years ago that reads:

“A friend is one who knows you as you are… understands where you’ve been… accepts who you’ve become… and still invites you to grow.”